An Overview

Asked about the history of Vancouver restaurants, he flashes back to the pioneering days.

Early Vancouver, he says, was like a collection of saloons and hotels. The hotels had dining rooms and photos show saloons with “chops” and other dishes inscribed on their windows. Early directories, he says, show advertisements for food in saloons.

Those early days were more sophisticated than one might think. It wasn’t just shoe leather steak and boiled potatoes. Vancouver was a transportation centre, linked far and wide by shipping, rail and water transport.

(Boulder Saloon)

“It’s a revelation because we often think it was a self-sustaining city,” says Atkin, who has written five books on civic history, “but it had shipping connections to Asia, Australia and New Zealand. There was trade down the coast with major cities like San Francisco. In the 1890s, they were bringing in New Zealand lamb packed in ice and sawdust. If you look at catalogues of that time, there was a wide range of coffees and teas and there was local game in butcher stores – photos show ducks, game birds, deer carcasses hanging.”

An immigrant community was importing foods to the city as well for tastes of their homeland. In Japantown, before World War 2 dispersed the Japanese, there were chop suey fusion places, he says.

The Victorian era, he says, was about cheap cafes that served working class food but when the Hotel Vancouver opened in 1888 (the first location was at Georgia and Granville), it set a new standard. The restaurant was intended for Canadian Pacific Railway travellers but it quickly became a social hub for the city.

Until World War 1, hotel restaurants were located in basements, he says. “It was convenient and the ground floor was kept for retail. Eventually, city laws said they had to be built on the ground floor.”

An posh restaurant of the time, called The Cabin, on Hastings at Cambie was one of those basement restaurants, says Atkin. “Once the streetcar lines moved there, Hastings St. became a popular shopping street.” The Bismarck Cafe was another fine restaurant; it wore jewelry in the form of an electric crystal fountain.

The streetcar system was shut down in the 1950s, taking with it, some 10,000 pedestrians along Hastings shopping district every day. “It set the slow decline of the area,” Atkin says.

Some might remember The White Lunch on Hastings. Like a few other restaurants of the time, the ‘White’ indicated that the kitchen staff were all white. “Luckily, that meaning was lost in time but certainly the original White Lunch and others with that word in it, signified all white help,” says Atkin.

(White Lunch)

Today, we look to south Main St. as the hub of the Indian community with restaurants and food shops lining several blocks. At one time, a fairly substantial Sikh community lived around Second Ave. between Granville and Burrard until buildings were expropriated for a planned freeway to go through the neighbourhood. (Didn’t happen.)

Speaking of urban renewal, Atkin says Chinatown restaurants had an impact on halting federal government plans for urban renewal in the 1960s; plans were afoot that would have destroyed the Strathcona neighbourhood. Community leaders Mary Chan and Betsy Lee fed the politicians into submission – they invited politicians to Chinese banquets and for many of these politicians, it was quite an experience. “They’d feed them while hitting them over the head with lobbying. It was used to great effect,” Atkin says. “For many of these politicians, it was quite an experience. If they lived outside Vancouver or Victoria, Chinese food was egg foo yung. They wowed them.”

During the 60s, the economy was buoyant. “A lot of cafeteria style restaurants opened up,” he says. “The background of any Foncie [Pulice, a street photographer] photo has places like Scott’s in the background. There was a shift to go out for dinner, geared to the family. There was enthusiasm and fun without being self-conscious.”

(Purdy’s Cafe)

It was an era of Polynesian fantasy. “Vets had returned from the Pacific campaign and were fascinated with Hawaii. Polynesian restaurants took off like nobody’s business.”

European travel, as well as Julia Child, sparked an interest in French cuisine and along with it, a certain self-conscious snobbery – “the whole red jacketed sommeliers thing copying the French.”

During the 1980s, immigration “went nuts,” Atkin says. “Immigrants from Hong Kong certainly changed Chinese cuisine in Vancouver with its emphasis on great, fresh ingredients and a whole different style of cooking from stodgey Chinese food to seafood palaces and shaking up the dim sum side of things.”

Expo 86 had an effect on the dining scene with the world coming to visit. “Sophistication crept in,” says Atkin.

Today, Vancouver’s on the international culinary map. “It’s now a hot place. We’ve kind of arrived,” he says. “W e’ve matured. And when people are laying out $23 million for a penthouse in Coal Harbour, they want really good restaurants to go to.”

But Atkin, being Atkin, gets his thrills from oldies like Foo’s Ho Ho which has a long history in Vancouver. The long-time chef and owner has passed away and it closed down for a while, then re-opened. “Now there’s a community effort to keep it going. “It’s the only place left in Vancouver, if not in B.C. where you can eat village Cantonese food, like home-style salted pork. You get a huge platter of chopped pork with tons of salt, loads of vinegar and it goes down so fast.”

10 Blasts from The Past

As time goes by, restaurants become something like our ‘Rosebuds’, representing pleasurable (and sometimes, innocent) times. They’re places where people have relished, nourished, partied and communed. At the most basic, they kept body and soul alive. Here are 10 memorables – some of which are still operating.

Vie’s Chicken and Steak House, 209 Union St.

Sometimes, it’s mistakenly said that Jimi Hendrix’s grandmother owned this restaurant in Hogan’s Alley, the hub of the black community from the 1920s to the 70s when the Georgia Viaduct rammed through the neighbourhood. The correct version is that grandma worked at this restaurant. (She lived nearby.) Vie Moore actually ran the restaurant. Black entertainers like Sammy Davis Jr. would eat there when in town because racism barred him from other places. “She got a lot of the Dean Martins of the world when they played at the Cave or Isy’s [night clubs],” says Bing Smith, a long-time Vancouverite. “My father-in-law frequented the place and it was known for incredible steaks cooked in cast iron fry pans. It was a late night place so a lot of celebrities hung out there.”

Norman Young, 85, saw dancer Martha Graham there. “The only reason was, I was with Hugh Pickett [impresario]. He’s brought her in.” Young liked the chicken for its moistness. “She put some sort of rub on it then put it in the oven. She had barbecued dishes that she did out back.” He says his recall isn’t perfect as he’d often had too much to drink there.

The Chamberlain family opened this rustic spot in 1926 and the second generation keep it going. Third generations of the early patrons still go there for the the kind of breakfasts that sustained loggers and dockworkers. What once was a log structure was replaced by brick (the logs succumbed to dry rot) but the place is a blast from its past. Native artifacts abound, evidence of the owners having bartered for meals with First Nations groups. “All the food was barbecued to begin with,” says Charles Chamberlain, the current operator. “There was a big fireplace with a rotisserie. They put sides of beef, or pork or chicken on it.”

The Tomahawk was the only place with a phone for the longest time so the Vancouver wharves would phone for workers. “Dad would go to the reserve and say workers were needed in the morning. They’d come in for breakfast and buy their lunch the next morning, walk across the train bridge to work. They’d return at day’s end for dinner.”

The Tomahawk was also the ‘office’ for local police. “They’d do their business here and wait for phone calls.”

Aki Japanese Restaurant, 1963 Powell St. (owner now operating at 745 Thurlow St.)

This was one of the first Japanese restaurants, an affordable one where many Vancouverites discovered Japanese food in the early 1970s. Akio Takeuchi, now 77, opened the restaurant after noticing that travellers to San Francisco would come back with sushi. He worked in a Japanese restaurant in that city, not exactly by choice. “He’d bought everyone drinks and ran out of money. He couldn’t pay the bill,” tattles his son Brian.

When he finally opened Aki, Vancouver city officials wouldn’t allow him to serve raw fish or cold rice. “It was pretty tough in the beginning,” says Brian. “But all of a sudden, it took off. The mainstream discovered the restaurant.” Then, the menu was heavy on sukiyaki, chicken teriyaki and tempura. “He stayed with the same menu because now, there’s no place to get traditional Japanese food.”

During the 70s and early 80s, the restaurant attracted high-profile guests such as prime minister Pierre Trudeau and presidents of Honda and Toyota. “It was really booming in the 70s and early 80s. There used to be a line-up down the block.”

Frank Baker’s Attic

Park Royal North, West Vancouver

People might not remember the buffet but stories of the restaurant will have a long afterlife. It opened in 1968, had 1,200 seats and Lance Harrison and the Dixieland band for music. Baker, a trumpeter, always clad in a white suit, would often trumpet guests into the restaurant. An Astin Martin DB5, from the movie Goldfinger, encased in glass, sat outside the restaurant and a huge weather-vane of Baker with trumpet was the icing on the top. Some women might recall being publicly embarrassed in the washroom where Baker had put a statue of David with his privates covered. Upon lifting the covering, a buzzer would ring through the restaurant. Gotcha!

White Spot Restaurants

Today, you’ll find White Spots in B.C. and Alberta (41 in Metro Vancouver alone) but first one opened in 1928 at 67th and Granville St. when car culture took to the roads. (The location was outside city limits back then.) Car hops would ferry the food out, balancing long trays, balanced between the open front windows.

The Pirate Pak for kids was introduced in 1968. The term Triple-O is a holdover from the booming car-hop days – an ‘X’ or ‘O’ beside the mayo or relish on the orders meant ‘hold’ or ‘extra’ while triple Os meant lots of everything. Eleven White Spots still have a drive-in service (as opposed to drive-throughs, like some McDonald’s). White Spot took its name from a restaurant on Wilshire Boulevard in Los Angeles.

The Only Seafood, 20 East Hastings St.

When it opened in 1916 (after changing its name from Vancouver Oyster Saloon), it was a big deal in the busy ‘downtown’ of that era. Two Greek immigrants, Nick Thodos and Antonio Demetry opened it in the days when restaurant washrooms were not mandatory. The Only didn’t have public washrooms to its dying days, which was a couple of years ago (shut down by the city because of vermin and crack storage). But back in its day, it was the only seafood restaurant (thus the name) and served fish as fresh as can be (never more than a day old) and cooked in the style that the Greek brothers knew, with lemon and butter. The Only had a great neon sign with a sea horse which is in storage, with a Downtown Eastside’s Portland Society, in hopes that another The Only stepping up to the plate.

Love’s Cafe, 925 Granville St.

After World War 2, it was one of the thriving go-to restaurants, along with Scott’s, Purdy’s, Peter Pan, The Trocadero, and Syd’s Tamale House in the downtown area. “Love’s was iconic,” says Smith. At the time, most restaurants were cafes and dives, except for hotel restaurants, he says. “Love’s was phenomenal with its big bar. It was grandiose for the day.” It closed in 1960.

Some might remember the wonderful neon sign with ‘Risty’ in top hat and monocle, offering “courteous service and quality food.” That sign and the bustling corner location at Broadway and Granville made this an iconic spot for a coffee or lunch. The Aristocratic, part of a chain restaurant from from the 30s to the 60s, opened in 1938. The original sign was lost to demolition (Risty’s arms pumped up and down, inviting you in) but a subsequent neon sign sits in storage at the Vancouver Museum. The current occupant on the site, Chapters bookstore, put up a fake Aristocratic sign in the window to honour an icon.

The Naam, 2724 West Fourth Ave.

The Naam embodies Vancouver’s hippy culture of the 1960s and 70s. Opened in 1968, it was counter-culture central, especially as hippies weren’t allowed in some restaurants. Spiritual seekers, politicos, hippies, anti-war activists, as well as vegetarians converged. Greenpeace had a start-up meeting there. Some 42 years later, the restaurant still runs on vegetarian and spiritual nourishment. Bob Woodsworth and Peter Keith took it over in 1980 and they still run it. Banyen Books opened about the same time and it, too, survives and thrives. “I’m amazed that people haven’t copied us lock, stock and barrel,” says Woodsworth, considering The Naam’s success. It has not flagged (or changed much) through the decades and at meal times, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a seat. The Naam means ‘the word’ in Sanskrit.

Foo’s Ho Ho, 102 East Pender St.

When chef/owner James Sam died two years ago, his wife Joanne decided to keep the restaurant going. It’s like the last restaurant standing from Chinatown of the 1950s and 60s and serves village-style Cantonese food. Foo’s originally operated next to the Chinese Cultural Centre and in 1998, Sam moved to the Ho Ho location which, by then, was vacant – thus the Foo’s-Ho Ho name mash-up. The latter restaurant, along with The On On Tea Garden was a favourite of prime minister Trudeau. During its heydays, the downstairs served “Canadianized” Chinese food whereas real Chinese food was upstairs. A group, Friends of Foo’s Ho Ho, are working to help this vestige of an era survive and hope to make physical improvements while retaining its heritage. (Try the Crispy Chicken with glutinous rice featuring a deboned, butterflied, marinated, deep-fried chicken.)

Remembrances Past

At the age of 85, not only has Norman Young seen herds of restaurants gallop through the decades in Vancouver, he’s seen eras of them.

Properness and formality, alas, are a thing of the past.

“When we went to the Roof [at the Vancouver Hotel] or the Cave [a night club], we’d put our tuxes on and go. Formality was not a difficult discipline. It meant life was more ordered and respectful. But now, when I go to places, people are in T-shirts that say “F—” on them,” he says. “I’m old-fashioned. My mother used to say, doff your hat to the ladies in the street and take it off in elevators and restaurants.”

Young, retired head of the University of B.C.’s theatre department, says his parents took him to Purdy’s, Scott’s and Love’s which were downtown during his salad days. “Scott’s was very English. The one I liked was the Silk Hat at the corner of Smithe and Granville. Their big thing was soft ice cream sundae, a real treat after the movies. It was very simple with lots of fruit rather than that candied stuff.”

Other restaurants he has known and remembers is The Waldorf [which was recently resuscutated from slumber]. “It had a Polynesian room and was a favourite of young couples. Several of my students went there 30 years ago for cocktails. There was a Polynesian place on Georgia St., too. They served what we thought was good South Seas food. We didn’t know the difference.”

(Trocadero Grill)

When alcohol was finally permitted in restaurants in 1952, The Cavalier Lounge at the Georgia Hotel was one of the first places to serve it. “Before, to get a drink outside of a beer parlour, you had to go to a private club and some were very good ones.” He remembers the Pacific Athletic Club off a Howe St. alley, the Arctic Club on Pender St. and Quadra Club on Seymour. “You had to be a member.”

He remembers, too, having good food at The Penthouse, which started as a good Italian restaurant, but became a strip club.

“Chinese restaurants were around from the git-go. Everyone had a favourite and we’d go down because they kept late hours. We’d have Chinese food after a movie.” He liked the Marco Polo, Kubla Khan, WK Gardens. Some had dance floors and most of the ones he frequented had dishes for Western palates. “They’d have almond chicken and chop suey but they also had chicken feet and sea cucumber.”

He liked the Utopia Cafe in Japantown, “a real greasy spoon.” It was a late-night venue. “We met friends from all over town on a Friday night. There were m any incidents because of the hours and clientele,” he chuckles. “Then there were higher-class joints like Aki’s in Japantown.”

Asked for the most astonishing meal he ever had, he settles on what, today, we might call an underground or pop-up restaurant. “This Chinese chef who’d worked for the CPR lived around Main and 15th or 18th. He made a whole meal in front of us and served 10 people. It was marvellous at the time, and unusual. I’ll always remember that meal. There were gingery dishes. My mouth still waters when I think of it. It was about the food because nothing else about that evening would make me remember it.”

Bing Smith, 63, hasn’t logged quite the number of years that Young has but he has a unique perspective on the evolution of Vancouver restaurants. Since 1970, he’s worked as a supplier in the food services industry and got to know many of them.

“It was a different time,” says Smith, who, today, works at Nestle Professional Vitality, a beverage supplier to the food service industry. “Then you dealt with the owners. Today, you deal with chefs. The owners are into numbers and not quite as hands-on.”

He’s noticed business isn’t based on cordial relations any longer. “I don’t think loyalty isn’t what it used to be. We used to shake hands for a bond. Now you need to sign agreements.”

But, he says, one thing has stayed consistent. “When I train young people, I tell them despite the computers, cells phones, faxes, one thing’s stayed the same. People buy from people they like – so be personal.”

Growing up in Marpole, in a working class family, you can bet he visited the first-ever White Spot which was in his neighbourhood. “In those days, going to a restaurant was a special occasion. I remember meals for $1.19, including salad, entree, dessert and coffee.”

He remembers fancy restaurants like the Cavalier Grill (Georgia Hotel), the Devonshire Seafood House and like Young, he remembers The Waldorf as a fun spot with a tiki bar.

“As far as free-standing restaurants went in the 1950s and 60s, there was the Lady Alexandra, which was a boat moored by the Bayshore Hotel. Another was the Seven Seas, an old Vancouver Harbour ferry.”

“The strange thing is, there used to be a fair amount of German restaurants. They hardly exist now. The Bavarian Room on West Broadway was a very popular place. That owner’s wife was murdered in the Pacific Centre Mall parkade.”

He remembers the Ho Inn for “really good Chinese food” as well as the hole-in-wall restaurants off Chinatown alleys, like the Green Door and Red Door. “I remember delivering to a couple of places in Chinatown and the guys would be smoking opium in the back kitchen,” he says, an eye-opener for “a kid from Marpole.”

In the 1970s, there was an “explosion” of free-standing restaurants, he says. “There were neat places, like the Three Greenhorns and The Wharf, which had to close because of a food poisoning incident. Bud Kanke [now runs Joe Fortes Seafood and Chophouse] started opening restaurants. The Cannery was a big hit. He also opened The Air Affair with a balloons and planes theme, and Mulvaney’s down on Granville Island.”

There were kooky ones, like the Medieval Inn (where female servers were ‘wenches’ and minstrels strolled the floor. At Brother Jon’s, servers wore monk’s robes.

“All these new concepts were happening,” says Smith. “At Meat Market and Kejac’s, you cooked your own steaks.”

Greek restaurants came into their own in the ’70s with Orestes, on West Broadway, the party animal, leading the pack. In earlier days, many of the city’s restaurants, like El Matador and Gray’s Grill were run by the Greek community, he says.

In the 1970s, Umberto Menghi began opening places. “He certainly brought fine Italian dining to Vancouver,” Smith says. Cote d’Azur was one of the first fancy French stand-alones.

He says places were packed in the ’70s. “Just about every place would have a line-up. We won’t line up for one to one and a half hours anymore. The only ones today are at Anton’s and Stepho’s and that’s for quantity and price. But in the 70s, it was vogue to line up at a hot, new place.”

These days, he says, he and his wife go out for dinner three or four times a week. “In those days, growing up, if we went out once a week, we were pretty lucky.”

Asked about the history of Vancouver restaurants, he flashes back to the pioneering days.

Early Vancouver, he says, was like a collection of saloons and hotels. The hotels had dining rooms and photos show saloons with ‘chops’ and other dishes inscribed on their windows. Early directories, he says, show advertisements for food in saloons.

Those early days were more sophisticated than one might think. It wasn’t just shoe leather steak and boiled potatoes. Vancouver was a transportion centre, linked far and wide by shipping, rail and water transport.

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